Positive
by LostinOblivion
Summary: Matt and Emily are left to deal when one of his ex's returns with disturbing news. Adult themes, so the M rating is just to be safe. FINISHED!
1. Chapter 1

Matt was on his way back from retrieving a ballistics report for his and Emily's latest case. This guy had an arsenal at his house, though he chose only a few of his best pieces to bring. These included a classic Colt 45, a 50 caliber semi-automatic that had been converted to full automatic, extremely dangerous, and a shotgun with the barrel sawed off, so he could hide it when he went into the office where he took his hostages.

This report was the last piece of documentation he needed to finish his report on the case. This way he could attack his other three cases, currently wallowing in the stew of paperwork that had been his desk, a long, long time ago. He checked his watch, 12:23, less than forty minutes till he abandoned his paperwork for one blissful hour, with the girlfriend he hadn't seen in days.

That wasn't totally true, he'd seen Emily in the parking garage, at their desks, when she came to pick up her paperwork, and very briefly talked to her last night. They'd been hit with case after case, the last few weeks, and that left a lot of paperwork for this week, when they hadn't had a single case. Unfortunately, this week also had him testifying in two trials, a chore that was usually left up to him, since Emily taught her classes. It left Emily finishing up her classes and preparing them for exams. Yes, they were forced to take exams to prove they'd learned something from the class. Which meant that she had to be available for questions all day, so she'd been in her classroom all day, alternately teaching, and seeing students with questions.

So they had barely seen each other, and gone home alone all week because they were too tired and too cranky to bother with anything more than sleeping an eating. Rather than risk fighting in their cranky moods, they decided to take advantage of the fact that they both had apartments. However, on the phone last night they had mutually agreed this not seeing each other for days wasn't working, so they had a lunch date for one o'clock.

It was not two seconds after checking his watch that Matt heard it.

"Matty! Matty!" It had been a long time Matt had heard that shriek, and he never missed it, not even a tiny bit. He turned around to see his ex, Tracy Mae, running down the hall, trying to catch up with him.

_What the hell could she possibly want?_

She would remain at the top of his pantheon of bad relationships. This was the woman who Cheryl liked to refer to as the 'rabid harpy', and Frank had taken to calling the Barbie doll. She was a mistake in every sense of the word, yet for some unfathomable reason, he dated her for four months, four excruciating long months.

When he actually bothered to go to his apartment, she would show up very shortly after and strut in, speaking like she was two seconds away from oding on speed. Gossiping, giggling, shrieking her awful, "oh my gods!", clicking her outrageously bright, often pink fingernails, and smacking her glossy red lips. And to add insult to injury, she insisted on calling him Matty. He detested being called Matty. Now said harpy was back, wearing a violently purple suit, and four inch stilettos to match, that also seemed to have something dead square in the middle of each toe. Her bleached blonde hair was curled tightly to her head, and her makeup and nails were as loud as ever. She was the polar opposite of Emily.

_God help me!_

"Tracy, what brings you here?" He made his best attempt at being polite, praying that Emily would round the bend any minute and save his sorry ass.

"Matty, I need to talk to you, it's important. Is there anywhere we can go that's private?" She looked hopefully at him, looking up and down the hallway she found him in. Matt was about to tell he to shove off, but there was something in her eyes that made him give in.

"Yeah, right over here." He escorted her a few feet down the hall to an interrogation room.

Once inside, She sat in the chair usually reserved for suspects, and went silent, studying the bare walls, table, floor, mirror, her ugly shows, anything but Matt. Her knees were angle, pressing against each other nervously, under the table, her hands moved almost rhythmically from her hair, to her arms, to just being clasped in front of each other, forming a triangle, as her elbows rested below them on the table.

Matt chose to stand, opposite Tracy, leaning back against the mirror, his butt not quite touching, and his legs stretched out slightly in front of him. He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for her to explain her sudden reappearance in his life.

"Tracy what's going on, I have work to do." He was having second thoughts about humoring her, and rapidly loosing his patience.

"Matt, uh, there is no easy way to say this." She continued looking nervously around the room.

"Say what Tracy?" He asked annoyed.

She was silent for a few minutes longer, then suddenly blurted, "I'm HIV positive."

Matt stared at her trying to process what she had told him. He clumsily fumbled for the chair opposite Tracy, sitting down before the shock overwhelmed him, still staring at her. While he stared, she continued speaking.

"I was tested twice a month ago. They did a quick test on the spot and had me come in the next day to do another that they sent out. Both were positive." She waited for him to say something, feeling agony as he remained silent.

"My last test before that was almost three years ago." She explained quietly. They'd dated almost two years ago. Her implication was clear. She could have been HIV positive when she was dating Matt, meaning Matt could now be HIV positive.

Matt began to feel sick, and could feel the sweat begin to pour off him. _Oh Christ, this was not happening. This could not be happening. Matt could not possibly have HIV. It was a ridiculous thought. Prostitutes got HIV, gay men got HIV, sluts got HIV, not your average Joe with somewhat liberal dating habits. _Matt thought, his suddenly being handed a possible death sentence making him drop all politically correct thoughts, and begin running on emotion.

_She was nuts thinking he had HIV. He couldn't, could he? God, he was responsible, always responsible. How could this happen? How could this be happening to _him_? What the hell was he going to do now? _He ran a hand through his hair, rivers of sweat raining from him, betraying the racing thoughts in his head, and rampant beat of his heart.

"Matt say something please." Tracy begged him, clearly upset be his continued silence.

He turned to her, his face one of shock and disbelief at her demand. "What am I supposed to say, Tracy?"

"I don't know! Say anything, just stop being so quiet, please." She begged him.

"Sorry to upset you, I'm contemplating my death." He said sarcastically.

"Don't be a dick Matt." She told him, getting upset.

"Excuse me? You waltz in here, tell me you may have given me HIV, and your telling me not to be a dick? I don't think so."

"Come off it Matt. You could have given it to me, when was the last time you were tested?"

She was right. He hadn't been tested in longer than she had. Evidently he wasn't that careful. He was tested, well, he couldn't remember exactly when, but he'd go with five years. What if he'd infected every girlfriend he'd had in the last five years. He used condoms with most of them though, only with a few women, his more serious relationships did he use birth control, like Emily.

_Oh god, Emily! _He thought as his stomach turned inside out, and this situation became much, much worse. If he was HIV positive, there was no chance that Emily wasn't. If he infected Emily, he would never forgive himself. She was different than any other girlfriend he'd had; he loved her. He'd pretty much confessed that in Mexico, though he realized afterward that she wasn't ready to hear it, and so played along with her. Now he might be force to tell her that she might die a few decades too early, and it was his fault.

He breathed in and rested his face in his hands, ignoring, once again, the woman in front of him. _I'm so sorry Emily_, he thought miserably. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, hoping he'd wake-up from this awful dream he was sucked into. He knew it wouldn't happen though. This wasn't one of those dreams that seems so real you feel like you're actually living it, so that when you wake up you feel nothing but relief that it was only a dream. This was reality, rather this was evidently reality biting him in the ass.

"Matt, you need to get tested." She told him seriously, suddenly stopping the blame game, perhaps the most mature thing Tracy had ever done, Matt though bitterly.

"I know that." He said abruptly, and not kindly.

"Are you going to?"

"Yeah." He answered without commitment.

"Matty?" Tracy suddenly realized what be upsetting her former boyfriend so, aside from the obvious.

"What?" He really didn't feel like talking right then.

"Do you have a girlfriend now?"

"Yeah, I do." He said, the hostility dropping from his voice, to be replaced with gloom.

"You care a lot about her?" Tracy asked coaxing him.

"Yes, very much." He answered honestly.

"I'm sorry Matty. I really am." She said softly, before she quietly left the room. She'd done what she come to do, now Matt had to deal with the rest on his own. She had her own problems at the moment, and a rather long list of former lovers to get through.

Matt remained in the room for a while longer, alternately staring blankly at a section of wall next to the mirror, and the floor as he hung his head in shame. Of course he didn't know if he even actually had HIV yet, but the very idea that he could, the very idea that he hurt Emily was a guilt trip that would make the Catholic Church envious.

He knew intellectually that political correctness dictates that people should be shamed or stigmatized for their HIV status, but emotionally it was a different story. Emotionally, he pictured a scarlet "H" pinned to his chest, and the words, "irresponsible bastard" tattooed on his forehead. Intellectually he knew he should calmly get a test done, prepare for the worst, and acknowledge that their was no rhyme or reason to who got HIV. However, being an emotional being, he wanted to scream at the top of his lungs that he couldn't have HIV, that it just wasn't possible, that he wasn't one of _those_ people, whoever they were.

With he head still hung, chin touching his chest, Matt began to move, suddenly realizing from the slight moisture on his palms, that his eyes had begun to leak tears. Angrily wiping them away, he got up, flung the door to the interrogation room open, intent on finding Emily and coming clean about this nightmare he found them in.

Matt, of course, found her in her classroom, lecturing on the no-exactly successes that can befall crisis negotiators. Matt snuck in quietly, as he had many times before, and just as quietly took a seat in the back. Most of the time he enjoyed hearing her lecture, but now he could feel the sweat pouring off him in bullets, as he watched, knowing what he had to do.

"You don't always come out with all your hostages unharmed or even alive. There will be times that you find you simply can't negotiate with the HT, times when you know they have nothing to lose, and no matter what happens, somebody will be crying before the situation is resolved." She spoke loudly, but gently to her class, hoping not to scare them. But the final thing they needed to learn from her class was that shit happened and some situations ended very badly.

"What do you do if you find you can't negotiate with your HT?" One student asked, one of the younger ones in the class, a rookie straight out of Quantico, the home of the FBI training academy. Most of the agents with any experience could already guess the answer to that question.

"You keep trying. You do whatever you have to, because that's all you can do. Often you'll just be pulling out everything you've got to get the HT to move where HRT can get a clear shot, other times, you'll have to get creative…" She caught sight of Matt sitting in the back, and smiled at him, as she continued speaking.

Unfortunately, for Matt, her smile at seeing him, sent his already frazzled nerves and weak stomach wild, and he bolted from the room, as quietly as he could. Tearing down the hall until he found a bathroom, he hurried in, taking the first stall, hoping that it had been flushed recently, and proceeded to loose his last few meals, in what he thankfully found to be a fairly clean bowl.

How was he supposed to tell Emily that he, no…they, might have HIV?

* * *

**_I wasn't sure how people would respond to this story, as in if there would be any interest, so I haven't written more yet. If anybody is interested, I'll keep writing. Thank you for reading, and Happy Holidays!_**


	2. Chapter 2

Exiting the bathroom, he was surprised to see Emily walking out of the lecture hall, looking around. How long had be been in that bathroom? He took a slow breathe in, then breathed it out at the same pace, stealing himself for what he needed to do. He began walking toward him, when she saw him, and cocked her head to the side, as if to ask what happened. When he finally got near, she was the first to speak.

"Hey, what happened? What minute I look up and see you, the next you disappeared?" Her hands ached to touch him, but she kept them firmly at her sides, anything else would have been considered unprofessional in front of their peers.

"Bathroom." He gulped out, the sick feeling in his stomach limiting his speech.

"Are you okay?" Her brow wrinkled, and the corners of her mouth turned down, clearly indicating that she was worried.

He nodded and stared at her a long moment, before blurting out in one chocked breath, "We need to talk, it's important."

"Okay, 722 is always empty, lets go in there." She told him, leading the way to a dark room, next to the one she used.

She flicked on a light, and they continued down the stairs until they got to the center of the cavernous room.

"So, what's going on Matt? I'm getting a little nervous." And she was. She had noticed that he was acting weird as soon as he was near her, and when he spoke, that only confirmed something was wrong. Now thoughts danced around in her head, and she wondered if he was breaking up with her. Had Cheryl's boss heard that they were involved?

"God Em, I don't know how to tell you this." His stomach was in knots, and his palms wear sweaty. This didn't go unnoticed by Emily, who began to notice the pallor of his face, and the fear and worry in his eyes.

"Just say it Matt, you're really starting to scare me." Emily was getting upset now, afraid of what could be wrong.

"An old girlfriend of mine just stopped by, and she told me…" He paused unable to say the words, he ran a hand through his hair, but quickly thrust his hands together when he realized they were trembling slightly. "She has…she said she…oh god, she's HIV positive Em."

"What?" She stared at him in disbelief.

"Neither of us had been tested before we hooked-up, and I haven't been tested since." Like his ex had with him, he chose to ignore the shock of his revelation, and clarify what it meant for her. He didn't know what else to do.

"What?" Emily couldn't form a single other word just then, the shock of Matt's revelation had rendered her not only speechless, but seemed to put a stop to all her thoughts. She couldn't think; she just stared at him.

"We could have HIV." There he had said it out loud, as much for himself as for her. No beating around the bush, just the hard truth. He didn't know what else to say to knock her out of the shock seemed to be in right then.

His shaky hands tried to take one of hers, but he hand barely brush the soft skin of her palm when she ripped her hand back, away from him. Now slightly more out of her shocked state, Emily was looking at him as if he'd slapped her. With no warning she turned her back to him, and took off, fleeing from Matt and his awful revelation.

* * *

Emily could hear the blood pounding in her ears like a thousand drums beating all at once, her pulse racing with the panic that had it's hold over her. Her throat was dry, making if suddenly very difficult for her to swallow, and her hands were shaking. Not like Matt's, which were only quivering slightly. No, hers were shaking like they were in a blender, and truth be told, her whole body was shaking, and her legs had become jello underneath her. She slid down the wall of the sporadically used stairway that really only led to the basement of the FBI building, which housed the LA branches oldest records. 

With the emotions battling in her head, Emily felt like she was on speed, or maybe crack. She was scared, sad, worried, horrified, and angry all at the same time, but mostly, mostly she felt betrayed. She trusted Matt. Plain and simple, she trusted him more than she had any man in her, even less than recent past. 33 years of living had taught Emily to be weary of relationships, and not dole out trust easily. Even with Matt it took time for her to secure in giving a big piece of herself to him. Now, this…this, she didn't know what to call it, felt like a complete betrayal.

Part of her screamed that it was completely justified to feel that way, while they other part kept yelling that it was completely irrational. Matt certainly didn't do this on purpose, but how could he be so careless? Everybody knows you're supposed to get tested regularly, not that she had in quite some time. But she certainly had fewer partners than Matt. She could have made him get tested before they stopped using condoms, why didn't she? How the hell could this be happening to her?

The pounding in her ears had stopped, only to be replaced by a pounding in her temples, signaling a much loathed stress headache. Painkillers were in her bag, which was in her classroom, she thought massaging her temples, hoping to sooth the headache away. It wasn't working, in fact her headache was getting worse the long she sat that the thought. Work, she decided, work was what she needed. A good distraction, so she could pretend her boyfriend hadn't just told her that they might both be very sick.

Rising off the floor, gripping the railing to balance herself on her still unsteady legs, Emily worked her way up the stairs toward salvation from her thoughts. Praying she wouldn't see Matt, she walked carefully toward the room she had just fled from, as if a magnet pulled her there. Shaking her head free of its spell, she made an abrupt turn toward her classroom. And, pretending like the last hour or so hadn't happened, she flipped through her notes, before speaking to her next class.

"Where did we leave off yesterday?"

* * *

Matt fell into a seat with his head in his hands after Emily fled. He didn't try to follow her. What could he have said to her? There was no words of comfort he could offer her, to say the words "I'm sorry" were an understatement, would in itself be an understatement of epic proportions. If he gave her HIV, then all the 'I'm sorrys' in the world couldn't do a damn thing. He didn't blame her for running out, she had every right to be upset, and every right to hate him. 

Matt sat like that for almost forty minutes before he realized his lunch break was over, and he'd been gone from his desk for over two hours. Cheryl would start wondering what had become of him. He worked his way back, all the while wondering if Emily would ever forgive him, or if he'd lost her.

He got home that night later than usual partly because he had prepped for the testimony he had to give tomorrow, but mostly because he had purposely stayed late doing anything. He didn't want to go home because he would be alone, which usually wasn't a problem, but he knew he would be spending tonight thinking about the possibility that he had HIV, and the possibility that Emily had it too, because of him.

He had starting thinking about just that the moment he got into his car to go home, the moment he turned his key in the door lock, and the moment he poured himself a large tumbler of whiskey. He generally wasn't much of a whiskey drinker, he preferred beer, but this large bottle had been a Christmas gift from some coworker long ago. He'd had it only one other time, when he'd run out of beer and needed a drink.

The whiskey was the only reason he slept that night. It was his sedative of choice that night. He slept on his couch, limbs slung about, thin blanket half off him, work clothes still on, and a now half empty bottle of whiskey on the floor by his head and well within reach of his arms.

* * *

At the same time Matt was pouring himself whiskey, Emily was in her apartment, sitting still as a statue, staring at her TV screen, which was black. She had been staring at the empty TV screen for over an hour, trying to make sense of the chaos that reigned in her mind, trying to process what Matt had told her. It wasn't working so well. 

Every time she tried to wrap her mind around the idea that she could be battling AIDS in only a few years, her thoughts immediately snapped at her that it wasn't possible. That it just couldn't be possible. She was careful, she was responsible, she didn't trust anyone enough not to be.

But she'd trusted Matt. Damn him! How could he be so irresponsible, why didn't he get tested? Why didn't she make him? Why had they stopped using condoms? What would happened now if they were both positive? They'd both start swallow a half a dozen pills a day and pray that they lasted another decade? Start lying to everyone, because the Bureau couldn't find out, that wouldn't be pretty. She wouldn't even want anyone to know, the stigma of HIV was still alive and well.

Would she tell her parents? Her brothers?

She brought her knees up to her chest hugging them to her as reality finally starting breaking through the wall of denial her mind had brought up. Still staring at the blank screen of the television, silent tears began to creep down her face. Part of her knew she should think positively, neither of them may have the virus, but at that point, she couldn't handle thinking both. It was too much to hope for.

Later that night Emily crawled into her feeling scared, tired, and terribly alone. Her mind was still racing, her heart struggling to keep beating steadily, rather than try to catch up with the speed of her thoughts. She lay on her side staring at nothing. Had this been any other situation where she was feeling this way, she would not be there in her bed staring at nothing.

No, any other time, she would have gone to Matt's and curled up against him, getting all the comfort he could give her. She couldn't do that know though, when she wanted it, and needed it more than ever. She wouldn't know what to say to him, or how to act. So Emily lay away all night, except for a few, short, blessed moments where pure exhaustion pulled her into sleep.

She gave up the battle at five o'clock, deciding to replace the sleep she missed with copious amounts of coffee. She didn't yawn or stumble as she got out of bed, she didn't rub her eyes and struggle to focus. She might do these things if had actually slept more than 40 minutes, or if the last snippet of those forty minutes hadn't been two hours ago. But neither was the case, so she simply got up, and into the shower, blindly copying every routine she'd had for years.

Sitting at her kitchen counter an hour and a half later, on her third cup of coffee, she felt silly. They didn't know for sure that they had the virus, as she had been calling it in her head. The term HIV was too real, too hard for her to say or even think right now, so 'the virus' it would remain. They might not. Yet she avoided seeing the one person who could comfort her, the one person that she wanted to be comforted by. The more she'd thought about it the silly she felt.

After finishing her fourth cup of coffee, she decided she go see Matt after he got out of court. They would eventually have to see each other, and eventually have to talk about this, if for no other reason than they were partners. What really made her decision for her was that, even though part of her still felt betrayed, a bigger part wanted to see the only person who could comfort her.

* * *

This had to be the longest trial ever. Matt had been waiting since court started that morning, in a tiny room off to the side. As a witness he wasn't allowed to watch the trial, so he was stuck in that tiny room, ignoring the TV and magazines they were considerate enough to leave. It usually didn't take that long, they knew when they needed him, and got him in and out pretty quick. They broke for lunch and hour an a half ago, and they still weren't done with the first witness of the morning. 

Time certainly didn't pass any quicker at the thoughts than ran through his still slightly hung-over mind. The knots in his stomach that the alcohol had untied the night before had returned, and were essentially stripping him of his appetite. He had spent the morning with four bottles of water and a half a dozen packets of Advil to try and kill the headache that had taken hold of him as soon as he woke up.

He suddenly heard a knock at the door and the District Attorney stepped in, already wearing an apologetic smile.

"Agent Flannery, I'm so sorry, I have some bad news." Matt barely stopped himself from laughing out loud. If only she knew what bad news really meant.

"The Judge isn't feeling well. He's pushing eighty and was having some trouble breathing, so we agreed to continue the rest of the trial until he's better."

"Any idea when the new date will be?" He wasn't feeling very forgiving, he'd been waiting all day, and they decide to continue now?

"Not yet, depends on how sick Judge Freeman is."

"Alright, keep me posted." Matt said, now barely paying attention as he walked out the door, finally free of that tiny room. What he saw when he went out stopped him dead in his tracks.

Emily was standing by the courtroom he should have been in, dancing around nervously. He hadn't expected to see her until he got back to work, he figured she'd still be pissed. But there she was waiting for him, and he allowed himself a little hope. Then a thought hit him. Could she have been tested already? What if she was just waiting to give him the results and did still hate him?

Telling himself he was being a wuss, and stealing his nerves, Matt walked over to her. When she saw him coming toward her she looked even more nervous.

"Hi." He said dumbly. They were well passed a simple 'Hi'.

"Hey…how did it go?" Small talk was good.

"It didn't." Evidently Matt had lost the better part of his vocabulary.

"What happened?" Emily looked confused now, though whether it was Matt's last statement or lack of speech, he didn't know.

"Uh, the judge got sick, they just broke. I never got to testify." After relaxing ever so slightly he was able to speak real sentences again.

"Oh."

"Yeah." There was a long pause as they both looked at their feet.

"Um…come here." Emily told Matt, as she took his hand and led him to an empty courtroom.

He went inside first and stood waiting for her as she closed the door and turned back to him. They stared at each other for a few painfully silent moments. Then Emily did just about the last thing Matt expected. She stepped close to him, so that their bodies were pressing against each other, wrapped her arms around his neck, and laid her head on his chest. After getting over his initial shock, Matt wrap his arms tightly around her, hugging even closer, as if it were possible. Soon both bodies relaxed for the first time in 24 hours.

* * *

_Thanks to all my reviewers, I hope you enjoyed this. I'll try to get the next chapter up soon._


	3. Chapter 3

Matt didn't dare move as he held her, afraid that even the slightest movement would wake Emily up to reality and send her running away from him again. He didn't know what brought this on, but he'd take whatever it was. He could feel her breath warming the tiniest spot on his chest, and the sensation made him hold her even tighter. Matt intended to enjoy holding her while he could, he didn't know how long it would last or if he would get to again.

"Matt?" Emily brought her head up from his chest and looked at him. In response he brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear, trying to keep reality at bay just a tiny bit longer.

"Matt, we need to get tested." She told him seriously, pulling away, afraid someone might see them. Between the time that morning she'd decided to talk to Matt and leaving work that afternoon, she decided that they were probably bother negative. Emily, ever the logical, had taken a step back to denial, and convinced herself that their tests would come back negative. They had to.

"I know," he paused watching her wrap her arms around herself in an effort replace what he'd given her. "Do you want to call out sick the rest of the day and go?"

"You think Cheryl will believe that we're both sick?"

"She trusts me. If I tell her we have something important to take care of, she won't give us a hard time. It's not like we have any pressing cases now anyway." Matt assured her.

Emily stayed silent a while before looking up at him, a hint of unshed tears in her eyes. "I'm scared Matt."

"Me too, Em. Like you wouldn't believe." They were silent for a long time, Matt straightening his already immaculate tie over and over again, and Emily, staring at the floor, her feet shifting around the floor.

"There's a clinic on thirty-first, I'm sure they do…testing…" She still couldn't bring herself to actually say HIV, maybe it was denial, maybe it was just her way of coping.

Instead of answering her, Matt took out his phone and hit speed dial two, while Emily watched curiously.

"Carrera." Cheryl practically barked into the phone.

"Hey Cheryl, uh, listen, me and Emily, we need the rest of the day off." Well, at least it got it out in one try.

"Why?"

"There is something important we need to take care of." He silently prayed for her to understand.

"What is it?"

"I…uh…I can't really tell you that, I just need you too trust. You know I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important." Matt was near begging her to understand, and Emily's sad gaze returned to the ground.

"Okay…And this thing, it needs both of you?"

"Yeah, we're both involved."

"So you have a thing, that you don't want to tell me about, that involves both you and Emily…Matt, what the hell is going on?" She said the first part slowly, like she was making sure he knew how ridiculous he sounded, before jumping into the second, where concern laced her voice.

"Nothing Cheryl really, we just need to do this."

"And you really aren't going to tell me what _this _is?"

"You're just going to have to trust me on this Cheryl."

"Matt, are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine." He could tell she was getting worried.

"Is Emily alright?"

"Yeah, she's fine too."

"Matt?" The new tone to a voice drew his attention back to her.

"Yeah?"

"Did you get Emily pregnant?" Cheryl closed her eyes as she asked this. God, she hoped they hadn't done anything stupid.

"Whoa what?! No, no, Cheryl, Emily isn't pregnant." Now it was Emily's turn to get jolted back to the conversation. Her head turned fast as a bullet towards Matt, with an expression that screamed 'what the hell?'

Matt shook his head at her and silently mouthed that it was nothing.

"Alright Matt. I'll trust you. You two can have the afternoon off, but if you two don't come in tomorrow, I'm going to send out a search party." She definitely sounded worried, he knew she would be, but it couldn't be helped.

"We will be. Thanks Cheryl."

"It's fine. But Matt, if something is wrong, or either one of you is in trouble, I want you to tell me, please? That's as your friend, not your boss." He was starting to feel guilty about making her worry.

"We're fine Cheryl, I'll see you tomorrow." He made sure to add before hanging up the phone.

"Are we fine?" Emily asked him after he hung up the phone. As much as she'd convinced herself that they were, she still wanted to hear Matt say it, and actually mean it.

"Let's go find out." He said, but his voice showing more confidence than he felt. He wanted to believe that their results would be negative, and subconsciously he did. That didn't stop the worry though.

* * *

Finding out was easier sad than done. They arrived at the clinic after a short drive through the city that ended on the outskirts of one of the less desirable neighbors. But then again, the more economically sound populace didn't need a clinic, they had extensive health insurance and plenty of doctors to choose from.

The clinic was unimpressive on the outside. The building had to have been around since the city as erected, though somehow it managed to still be standing, even with the obviously, less than regular care it received. Like most of the poorer neighborhoods, garbage was scattered along the ground, and even though it was warm and the sun was shining, it seemed less than inviting, and lonely.

Inside was somewhat better. It was cleaner, which was to be expected, but the age of the building showed, and the lack of care it received over the years became that much more obvious. It was loud and busy in the waiting area. Nurses ran around with charts, calling patients, handing out scripts, and looking incredibly harassed. People were scattered around the block of blue plastic chairs in the middle of the room.

A few were obviously homeless, dirty and clothed in everything they owned, most were women. There were girls from their early teens onward, nervously waiting for Gynecological exams, birth control, the morning after pill, abortion consultations or one of a dozen other things. There were at least a half a dozen mothers, many had more than one child, a few had at least three, several crying and yelling. Then there were people coughing, sneezing, blowing noses; a nurse came and not too kindly took a thermometer out of one man's mouth. Off to the side, away from everyone else was a guy puking into a metal pan.

Matt and Emily approached the triage window with more than a little apprehension, and explained their need for HIV tests. The nurse looked them up and down, first with a look of slight disbelief, as it was obvious they didn't live near that neighborhood. Then she gave them a look that somehow managed to convey sympathy, while at the same time chastising them for their obvious carelessness.

"Alright, we're a bit backed up, but fill these out for now, and hand them back to me. We'll see you as soon as we can." She handed them each a clipboard with a stack of forms.

"Thanks." They both said, taking the clipboards and turning to find seats.

"Wait a second." She called to them.

"Yes?" Matt asked turning back to her.

"Do you two have health insurance, I'll need to make a copy of your cards."

"No, we don't." She gave him a look that conveyed that she most definitely didn't believe him.

"We don't want this showing up on our insurance." Emily told her, taking the truthful tact.

"You know your employers can discriminated against you if you come up positive." It was a minute before either of them responded, not sure what to say.

"We're FBI. We're partners." Matt explained, hoping she understood what it meant.

"Ohh…well then," she said, finally understanding "leave the insurance section blank." Then she turned back to the pile of papers in front of her.

Matt and Emily meandered over to seats at the end of the row closest to the window. The paper work consisted of a form for their basic information, which included the health insurance section, a statement of privacy rights, a form on their medical histories. Matt finished his in fifteen minutes, and waited as Emily mentally counted the days since she had her last period.

After screwing up her math so severely she nearly scared herself to death thinking she was two weeks late (because wouldn't that timing just be perfect?), she correctly figured that it had only be a few weeks. Now aggravated, she handed the clipboard to Matt, who promptly deposited both with the nurse they gotten them from.

_

* * *

__An hour and a half later_

They'd spent the better part of that time fidgeting and trying to ignore the crying child two seats down, whose nose was running all over everything. His stressed mother was juggling a crying infant girl, and arguing with and occasionally ssmacking his older brother.

Matt had checked his watch almost every ten minutes, and Emily had distractedly flipped through every battered magazine in the vicinity. When she yawned and laid down her latest distraction, Matt wrapped his around her and pulled her closer to him. If they couldn't do anything else they might as well sleep. Surprised at first by his action, Emily soon relaxed, and both were asleep within fifteen minutes.

_

* * *

__45 minutes later_

They were both suddenly waking by the arrival a jumpy teenage mother arriving with her baby boy, who was screaming bloody murder. A sympathetic nurse soon ushered them both through the doors that led to the exam rooms. Emily and Matt went back to sleep.

_

* * *

__Another hour later_

"Matt Flannery?" A tired nurse called out to the still zoo-like waiting room. When she got no response she called again louder.

"Is there a Matt Flannery in here?"

"Chandra, he's the one passed out over there with his girl friend." The triage desk nurse told her, pointing to Matt and Emily.

"You don't see that too often around here." Chandra said, referring to the fact that they appeared to be a loving middle-class couple.

"Mr. Flannery." She said as she stood directly in front of the sleeping couple.

"Huh? Oh god, sorry." Matt said upon waking up, slightly dazed. Emily had woken up too and was blinking her eyes to try and focus them.

"We're ready for you."

"Uh, great, um…can you see us together?"

"Your in for the same thing?" They nodded.

"Yes, but I have to tell you, that with a third party in the room doctor patient confidentiality might not hold up in court."

"Doesn't matter." He told her.

"Then you can both come with me."

"First thing is weight, blood pressure, and temp." she told them, gesturing to the scale they had stopped in front of, just beyond the doors that led from the waiting room.

"For an HIV test?" Emily asked.

"Standard procedure honey." Chandra told her kindly.

After they'd both been weighted, hand there arms half chocked by the pressure gage, and had a thermometer stuck in their ears, she told them to wait for the doctor. Dr. Margaret Jefferson came in twenty minutes later, and began twenty questions about their sex life.

"How long have you been sexually active together?"

They looked at each other, trying to remember, and then Emily answered, "almost nine months." Dr. Jefferson wrote something on her clipboard.

"Alright, do you use protection and what kind?"

"Uh, condoms for the first few months, then I went on the pill, and we stopped." Emily said looking down at her feet, feeling like some idiot teenager.

"When was the last time you were tested for HIV?"

"A year and a half ago or so." Emily answered first

"Best guess is five years." Matt said sheepishly.

"Which one of you has an HIV positive ex?" They looked at her in surprise.

"I've been doing this way too long to not be able to guess this." She told, amused at their surprise.

"Me, a girl a dated almost two years ago just tested positive. She said it had been about three years since her last test."

"What kind of protection did you use with this woman?"

"Condoms at first, then she went on birth control."

"Alright. Come with me." She told them after she finished marking down their last answers.

She led them to a smaller room, that held a chair with a padded armrest, and beside it a small table. Off to the side was a small cabinet, and beside that was a wall of drawers, from which a man in blue scrubs was pulling supplies.

"All yours Bernie." She told the man preparing to take their blood. Then she turned to Matt and Emily and said, "When your done here, you can go back in the waiting room and I'll come get you when your results are ready.

Both nodded distracted by the needles and the wave of reality that swept over them. Though by this point they'd reverted back to denial, and convinced themselves that the tests would come back negative.

After being swabbed with this ice-cold alcohol pads, and stuck with a needle, they were given little juice boxes and excused to the waiting room, where they waited another two and a half hours for their results.

* * *

Margaret Jefferson hated this part of her job the most. The HIV testing turned out positive results far too often for her taste, and breaking that news was always hard and often heart breaking. She told teenagers, children who'd barely begun to live theirs lives that they'd be lucky to see thirty. She told junkies, many still too strung out to really comprehend what she was saying that their last needle cost them their lives. From hookers to the shy man who managed the neighborhoods library, she'd told all types of people that they had HIV.

Though rarely had she seen couples come in for testing together, let alone a couple of Feds, if what Cali said was true. Cali was a good woman, but did love her gossip, and couldn't hold back when she learned they had two FBI agents in their clinic. That they were partners having an affair made it juicier, and as soon as they'd told her, she told Chandra, who told Margaret.

This led to her pondering the results she'd just received on their tests. They were surprising to say the least, and she'd looked at them a few times, and even questioned the guys in the lab about them. More than surprising, they were unusual; she might even go so far as to say near impossible. Shaking her head, she continued her walk to the waiting room.

She opened the doors and caught a glimpse of the couple in question; she sighed. Sure it was always hard, but sometimes her patients made in completely impossible. Once again, they were pressed close together; Emily had her head resting on Matt's chest, he had his arm wrapped around her, and their hands were joined in their laps.

"Matt, Emily." She said as she approached them. They already seen her and were walking toward her.

"Do you want your results together?" She asked when they were close enough. They both nodded and she led them back to the exam room they had been in earlier.

"First, I just have a couple more questions for you." She could see them both begin to get a bit squirmy, so she didn't stop for responses.

"How long exactly has it been since you stopped using condoms? I need you best approximation."

They turned to each other, and began trying to figure it out.

"Six I think." Matt told Emily.

"I think it's closer to seven." She corrected him.

"You sure?"

"I'm almost done with the third week of my pills, and I pretty sure I've had six before this one."

"Alright, you'd know better. Almost seven." He turned back to Margaret at that point.

"I know these questions are awkward, but how often do you typically have sex? Just tell me if it is at least once a week."

"At least." Matt blurted out, making them both turn slightly pink.

"Okay," She said trying not to laugh at his enthusiastic reply. "I have your results, but I'm going to have to explain what they mean after."

Matt and Emily were confused, either it was positive or negative, what could you have to explain about that?

"Alright, Emily your test came back negative. Matt, I'm sorry, your's was positive."

* * *

_You probably all hate me right now, at least I gave you the results, finally. More to come soon. Thank you to TBrennanFan for reviewing, and apologies on my grammar. I spent all semester being hyper vigilant to grammar, now I'm on vacation and saying to hell with it. And I don't know what a beta is, all I have is Word's joke of a grammar check. I'll look into a beta though, thanks. And, thanks again to all my readers and reviewers! _


	4. Chapter 4

Floored didn't quite describe the two people who sat in front of Margaret Jefferson, though she knew all too well that the blank looks of shock they both wore masked the swirl of thoughts that were running through their heads. She'd seen every possible reaction from people after receiving their HIV test results, and she'd felt like the Devil in carnate every time they were positive. Sure, she was just the messenger, but that didn't change the feeling that came with telling somebody they had a deadly illness.

Emily sat staring at the doctor blankly, because the speed at which the thoughts in her head were going would allow for nothing more. She could barely form a completely thought before another assaulted her, she felt like she'd just taken a massive hit of speed.

_This can't…how is this…doesn't make sense…only Matt…they didn't use condoms…it didn't work that way…how could…it can't be…it doesn't make sense…can't be happening…god, this can't be happening…oh god, oh god, oh god…_

She put her hands up to her face, forming a triangle over her mouth and nose, trying to make sense of what she'd just heard.

While Emily's thoughts were turning her head in circles, Matt's emotions were changing so constantly that he didn't know what he felt. He was shocked, than his mind began denying it, then he felt angry, then he was confused and upset, then of all the emotions he could be feeling at that moment he picked the least likely, relief. According to the results Emily was okay, Emily wasn't sick, he'd take only him over both of them any day. Then his brain began cycling everything he'd felt all over again, so he just sat, staring at the floor, almost numb.

"So, as I said your results are a little unusual, they need a little explaining." When Matt and Emily didn't respond, Margaret continued.

"You two don't seem like you go for beating around the bush, so I'm just going to plow ahead." This time she got a distracted nod from Emily.

"Alright, with these results, there is essentially three possibilities, I'll go through them from most likely to least likely. First, is that Emily's results are a false negative." Matt's head shot up, the last bit of hope he had seemed to vanish, and Emily sat her eyes closed as if she was trying to keep herself from exploding.

"False negatives aren't uncommon in HIV testing. The antibodies for the disease typically show up between two weeks and six months, it's especially during this time that false negatives are common. Now you two have told me that you both passed that mark, so there other possibilities. I need you both to know though, that it is most likely that Emily's result was a false negative." She paused now, giving them both a moment to process what she'd just told them.

The only change to their expressions perhaps more shock and more confusion, though Matt's eyes now held a little bit of hopelessness.

"The next likeliest possibility is that Matt's result was a false positive. Western blot testing isn't foolproof, and our techs aren't either. False positives do occur on occasion, but more rarely that false negatives." Once again she pause for a moment letting this information sink in.

"The third possibility, and frankly, so implausible that I considered not even mentioning it, is that the test results are actually correct. If Matt is HIV positive and you two were have unprotected sex as often as you say, the chances that Emily isn't infected are essentially nonexistent."

"What if the test results are right?" Matt asked the silent twinge of hope in his voice.

"Then Emily has just become the new best friend of every AIDS researcher in the country, well, probably world actually. But, as they say, anything is possible."

"What do we do now?" Emily spoke very quietly, not trusting her voice to not break.

"I want to take more blood from both of you, and I'm going to send it out to another lab. Their tests are more accurate than ours, and we often use them when our results appear to be inaccurate."

"How long will that take?"

"To get the blood? Well, I'll send you back to Bernie right now, and you'll be out of here in twenty minutes. To get the results…two weeks usually." Emily nodded at her blankly, consenting to the testing, while Matt stared into space, lost in thought.

"Did you two drive here?" Margaret asked them, noticing that Emily's hands were trembling slightly, and Matt was looking much paler than when he'd come into the exam room. It was to be expected though.

"Yeah." Matt answered, eager for any sort of inane conversation that would serve as a distraction.

"After you get blood taken, you each need to drink a juice, and eat…whatever we have set out, crackers or cookies, and sit for ten minutes before you try to drive." This time she received to nods, perhaps the first time she got a response from both of them since she told them their results.

"Alright, let's go visit Bernie." Matt got up, but Emily sat for a moment longer, until her took her shaking hand, and led her toward the door. Margaret notice that he looked worried as he escorted her; the last ten minutes had made it crystal clear that these two FBI agents were much more than two partners having an affair. She wondered if they realized it.

* * *

"Didn't I see you two already?" Bernie asked when Margaret led them in for the second time. This time he noticed they looked very somber and distracted, different from the nervous couple he'd seen almost three hours earlier. Their results couldn't have been good. 

"Their back for more testing Bernie, we're going to send this one out though. You know the drill." She said, handing him a form she'd started filling out once through the door. She filled out a second one, while Bernie gestured for Matt to sit on the chair next to him.

"I'm going to try to get the needle in the same hole." He told Matt, as he swabbed him, and readied the needle, before sticking it in Matt's arm.

He stuck the tube in at the opposite end, and both men watched as the deep red blood squirted rapidly into the tube. When it was filled, he pulled it out, labeled it, and set it aside, for sticking a cotton ball over the needle hole, and applying a bandaid.

Emily was next, though Matt had to momentarily break her from the trance she was in, before she sat down and resumed it. She was momentarily jolted again, when the tube only filled halfway before the blood stopped pouring in, and Bernie had to shift it a bit to get it going again. The pain made her startle and jump, and Bernie apologized sheepishly, before finishing.

Margaret had returned to the room after a brief absence, and in her hands held more papers. She gestured them to once again follow her as Bernie handed them both juice boxes and little packets of crackers with peanut butter in the middle.

Once back in the exam room, she handed them each a stack of pamphlets and few business cards.

"I've given you about a half a dozen pamphlets. One is basic information on HIV, the others are on treatments, one is on living with the virus, one is on AIDS, and the last one is on an organization that counsels people with HIV. Their very good, and while you may not think you need counseling now, if these tests come back positive in two weeks, you will. The same goes for the rest of the pamphlets, while it isn't definite that you have the disease now, in two weeks it might be, I'd rather you give this information sooner than later. If the tests come back negative you get to throw all this out and never think about it again. The business cards are for three of the most experience and best HIV/AIDS doctors in the city. If it becomes necessary, you won't find better doctors." She finished her monologue and paused, allowing it to sink in, before speaking again.

"Do either of you have any questions?" In answer to her question she received two very distracted headshakes.

"Alright, then you're free to go." She told them, as began to shuffle toward the door.

"Matt, Emily?" She called, stopping them suddenly. "HIV has changed a lot in recent years, people who test positive can still live fairly normal lives. HIV positive women can give birth to healthy HIV negative babies."

"I guess you just have to be okay leaving them orphaned." Emily said sadly. Margaret looked at her sympathetically, it was true, HIV could be treated, people can live years with it, but it couldn't be cured. HIV eventually becomes AIDS, and AIDS essentially kills.

* * *

Matt closed the door to his apartment and turned the deadbolt, hoping to lock out the hell he was going through. He threw his jacket and keys on the table by the door, and his gun and badge hit the coffee table, as he ambled toward his couch. Crumpling into the plush sofa, he eyed the bottle of whiskey from the previous night, thinking how it felt so long ago. He debated finishing it off and sedating himself for another night, until Emily's voice popped into his head, chastising him. 

If she knew he was drinking copious amounts of alcohol to drown out the thoughts and emotions dancing around inside him, she would be disappointed. He remembered a conversation they'd had where she'd railed against the rampant alcoholism present across the country. He knew that probably mattered little now, her disappointment that is, because he'd hurt her, betrayed her. He couldn't apologize or take it back, he couldn't even beg for forgiveness, because none of it could change what that doctor had told them today.

Matt shuffled to the kitchen and dumped the whiskey into the sink, throwing the bottle in the trash. He had disappointed her once, he wasn't going to do it again, even if she might never find out, even if she didn't care anymore. He opened his fridge and grabbed a bottle of water instead, and heading toward his bedroom. He gulped down half the bottle of water, before discarding it on the nightstand, and heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth.Closing all his curtains, setting the alarm, and turning out his light, he crawled under his covers drawing them above his head in a pathetic effort to hide from reality.

But, just because he was hiding under his covers like a four-year-old with a monster in his closet, didn't mean he'd sleep faster. Sleep didn't come for several hours, his mind running through all the events of the past two days, scolding him for his past mistakes. His eyes finally drifted shut around two o'clock, and he dreamt of Mexico. He dreamt he'd actually had the balls to tell Emily what he really meant, and he dreamt that Tracy had never come back into his life.

* * *

After Emily dropped Matt back at the courthouse where his car was parked, she come home and once again stared at her turned-off television for twenty minutes. Everything that had run through her head the previous day, ran through it again, taunting her for the hope she'd held that morning. Her ringing phone was the only thing that stopped her from staring longer, though she chose to ignore the intrusion, allowing the machine to pick it up. 

"Emily is Mom. I haven't heard from you in while Honey, and I know your busy, but your father and I still worry. And, yes, I know you're an FBI agent and you can take care of yourself, but humor your mother. Talk to you soon, Bye!" The machine clicked off, and the apartment was abruptly drowned in silence again.

Emily wearily got up and went to her kitchen almost mechanically, looking for something to eat. However when she opened her fridge, she felt a twinge of nausea creep up on her. She chose instead to take a shower, running the water a little hotter than she usually did. Running her hands tiredly over her face, she removed her clothing, setting her weapon and ID on top of the toilette tank, while settling for clumsily tossing the rest of her clothing on the floor. She was in no mood to be tidy.

The hot water hit her skin, momentarily shocking her before she became accustomed to it. Numbly, she shampooed and conditioned her hair, and rubbed her body wash lathered loofah over her body. When she finished these very familiar tasks, she still felt unsatisfied. She turned the hot water knob slowly, momentarily satisfied when the hotter warm assaulted her skin. But her body adjusted to that temperature, so she turned the heat up slightly more. This generated only the same reaction.

She felt herself begin to cry, so she cranked up the hot water, and let the burning liquid scald her body, turning her weary flesh a bright pink. Perhaps she was trying to mask her tears, perhaps she was trying to burn the virus out of herself, she didn't know. As the hot water cascaded down her body, Emily crouched down in her tub, bringing her knees to her chest, crying out everything she had in her.

* * *

_This was definately supposed to be much shorter than it's turning out, but it has a life of its own now. Thank you to twinmuse, justawriter, and TBrennanfan for their reviews, and I hope everybody enjoyed this. More to come as soon as I can write it!_


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning Emily and Matt said very little to each other. They went about their work as if the last two days had been only a dream. There was only one piece of evidence that something had happened in those two days, something only those closest two them would pick up on. They acted like co-workers.

Sure this wouldn't have been strange between two other agents, but between two that were lovers, and friends before that, it was a sure sign that something had changed. They were civil with each other, talking really only when one of them needed information on a case. They didn't bristle at each other's presence, but they didn't seem entirely comfortable with each other.

Cheryl had noticed this bizarre change by 10:30 and she stood for a while watching the two as they worked at their desks. They shared a large cubicle-esque thing, and sat perpendicular to each other; Cheryl stood at her office, on a wall, close to, but opposite their workspace.

On a normal day, they would have been talking while they worked, discussing, or rather arguing about a case, and challenging each other. They would have been at the very edge of their desks, so that they were as near to each other as possible, without seeming completely unprofessional. Normal would have been Emily using psychobabble to explain and HT, while Matt stared blankly, picturing her naked. Yes, Cheryl had overheard that particular conversation.

Cheryl had rolled her eyes after hearing that little bit of information, and continued toward her office. She didn't care if they flirted in the office, in the field, she wouldn't have it, in the office, it didn't really matter. They got results in the field, and their reports came in on time.

This wasn't normal; this was weird. Cheryl wasn't sure she should ask them about it, maybe they were just having an off day. Though her phone conversation with Matt yesterday was making her nervous. She was worried that something had happened to one of them, or both.

But, she ultimately decided, they were getting their work done, so she couldn't ask them about it as their boss, and if they wanted to tell her as a friend, they would do it when they were ready.

* * *

_Two Days Later_

If going through the week was hard for them, the weekend was impossible. At least during the week they had work as a distraction, they didn't have to think about their test results all the time. Without each other, their weekends were very empty, which left too much time to think.

Matt had lunch with a friend he hadn't talked to in a while, prepared to do anything, and discuss anything, that didn't include HIV. He and his friend, Alex, talked about work, women, and life, and laughed over all the trouble they'd gotten into when they were still young enough to have the energy.

"So, tell me more about this new girlfriend, Emily right?" They were in a small bar, that sold some of the best microbrew beer either of them had ever tasted as well as the state's juiciest burgers, their own homemade pickles on the side. It was a bar both men had frequented; having found it one evening in their youth it became their meeting spot.

"Yeah, uh, we're just taking it slow I guess." Matt told him and paused, then spoke again, finally admitting what he didn't want to be true. "Things aren't going real great right now, I think it might be over."

"Really? What happened?"

"I just screwed up man, and I can't fix it."

"You can always fix it, Matt. Come on, what did you do?"

"I don't really feel like going there. Let's just leave it at that I screwed it up and lost her."

"Damn Matt, I'm sorry. This is the longest relationship you've had since Rachel."

"I didn't screw that one up, that was all her."

"And a guy named Harry, if I remember correctly."

"Yeah, and he lived up to it, ugh, saw way too much of him." Matt said, referring to when he walked in on Rachel and a very hairy Harry, both very naked in her bed.

"I remember when you came running over to my apartment you looked like you were going to be sick." Alex told him laughing.

"You didn't see it man, and god, Rachel, I still wonder why she did it." Matt said, still slightly sickened by the memory.

"You've got piss poor taste in women Matt. You always find the crazy ones, or controlling, or divas." Alex was still laughing at him.

"Why do you think I stopped having relationships longer than a night?" Matt laughed with him now. "Besides, Alex, you've dated some crazy ones too. Like, what's-her-name? The bleach blonde, had her nipples pierced, and her, you know, that too."

"Ashton, she was wild, made the sex great. But, you know man, I settled down, I found a great woman, and I haven't screwed it up yet."

"How is Claire?"

"Good, actually, maybe pregnant."

"Whoa, what?"

"I might be in the process of becoming a daddy, we find out Monday, she has an appointment with her ObGyn."

"You ready for that?"

"Don't know really, but we're not getting any younger Matt, and I love her." He took a swig of his beer and watched Matt, as he stared off, lost in thought.

After a moment Matt swung his head back toward his friend and lifted his beer, "Well, congratulations Alex and I hope the kid looks like Claire."

"Thanks, but we don't know anything yet. She might not be."

"But you want her to be don't you?" Matt asked studying his friend.

"Yeah, I guess I do." Alex watched his friend drift out again momentarily. "Hey Matt, can I ask you something?"

Matt nodded.

"This Emily, it was more than just sex with her wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was." Matt said, his face turning towards the table in defeat.

"You never told me what she looked like, is she hot?"

Matt thought for a minute. "Do you remember that girl you dated, the brunette, the really gorgeous one, it was 5, 6 years ago maybe?"

"Jordan, sure, I couldn't forget her."

"Emily's twice that and then some."

"Really?"

"Red hair, blue eyes, tall, perfect figure. I didn't know who to thank first when I was partnered with her, Cheryl or God."

Alex was laughing at him again. "And she's got brains and balls to boot? You got lucky with her Matt."

"Almost screwed it up before it started too, that's of course before I actually did screw it up." Matt admitted running his hands over his face, looking quite dejected.

"You really are smitten Matt!" his friend exclaimed laughing even harder now. "Come on man, you have to tell me what you did to screw it up."

"I will at some point, I'm not ready to go there yet though." He said, looking seriously at his friend.

"Alright, alright, I get it. But now you have to tell me about Mexico. I'll you've told me is that four of you went down there chasing a drug dealer, and you came back across the border with three of people bleeding and a body in the trunk. There is one hell of a story in there, spill."

"Okay, where to begin…" Matt was happy to tell Alex his adventure in Mexico, any distraction would work.

* * *

Emily spent her free time shopping with her mother, a woman who treated shopping as a sport. Carol Lehman could shop for 24 hours straight, and still have the energy to push on further. Emily, though she liked clothes, and enjoyed shopping, didn't have even half the drive her mother had for it. They were now in a Bloomingdale's in maybe the biggest mall Emily had ever been in; they'd already been through almost a third of the stores. 

"So, I've kept my mouth shut for the first half of the trip, so now I have to tell you. Gayle Kinder's son is back in town, and he's gorgeous, and he's a CEO at some big company that I can't remember the name of. We could set you two up…" Carol told her daughter in a sing-song voice that clearly meant it was supposed to be a scintillating offer.

"Mom, I told you, I'm dating someone." Emily said, before she realized that those words might no longer be true.

"Yes, but you said he was another FBI agent, relationships with co-workers never work out, besides you can do so much better." Emily had never mentioned that he was a partner, she knew that would just generate a hellish conversation, and gallons of disappointment from both her parents.

"Would it matter if I told you I was really happy with him?"

"Of course it matters that you're happy sweetie, but really can you raise children when both of you run around waving guns?"

"Mom, I don't run around waving a gun, at least not often. I talk, remember, HRT goes in waving guns." Emily told her exasperated.

"And this guy?"

"He's a negotiator, haven't I told you this before?"

"So he does the same thing you do, he talks?"

"Yes."

"It's still dangerous Emily, I know you've switched yourself for hostages, and you _do_ carry a gun."

"I hardly ever use the gun, and I switch myself for hostages even less, in fact we aren't supposed to do that."

"Well, what about the sniper who shot into your office, or Mexico, you still won't tell me about what happened down there."

"The sniper was a once in a career event, and Mexico…Mexico shouldn't have happened, I read the guy wrong." She been through these same conversations with both her parents ever since she got excepted to the academy, and she knew she'd rehash them many more times.

"Alright why haven't I met this guy yet?" She switched topics sensing the current one would just create a fight, as it often did.

"We haven't been together that long Mom, we're trying to go slow."

"How many nights to you two spend together each week?" Carol asked suddenly.

"What?!" Emily turned toward her mother in shock.

"How many?"

"Why?"

"Just answer the question Emily."

"I don't know, it depends on the week." This was not a conversation she wanted to have with her mother.

"The average Emily." Her mother's tone had become one Emily had know well as a child, a warning."

"God, I don't know, 4, 6?"

"Over half the week, that isn't slow, you're practically living together." Her mother looked at her sternly. "Your father wouldn't approve."

"Dad hasn't approved of anything I've done since I graduated college mom."

"Can you blame him? He's a traditionalist Emily, and now his only daughter runs around with a gun, talking to lunatics, and is shaking up with a man he hasn't even met."

"Because he'd feel better about it if he'd met Matt? Not likely mom. He'd hate Matt anyway."

"Why?"

"Because he doesn't sit in some stuffy office in a business suit, but mostly he wouldn't ask me to leave my job. That's what dad's hoping for right? That I'll meet some very grounded businessman, and he'd convince me to drop the FBI thing?"

"That's what we'd both like Emily, Billy too." Billy was her brother, who'd followed his father's lead, working for some huge company, getting married, and having three perfect kids.

"That's not what I want mom." How many times had they been through this?

"Alright Emily, I'll drop this conversation, we both know it never turns out well anyway. But, I'd still like to meet your boyfriend."

"We'll see mom…" Emily said without commitment. She couldn't promise anything, because her and Matt were probably over, they hadn't really talked since she dropped him off after the tests.

That was the one virtue of that incredibly uncomfortable conversation, she hadn't thought about the past week the whole time. She'd suffer through that conversation for that tiny bit of respite anytime.

"Oh guess what!" Her mother exclaimed suddenly.

"What?" She said with enthusiasm, happy to be distracted again.

"Billy might be getting a promotion soon, the man above him was just forced out. They call it early retirement, but they might as well have just fired him."

"Why, what did he do?"

"They found out he'd gotten HIV from some hooker he used on a trip east. Tried to hide it from them, but they found some of the drugs in his office."

"And they fired him for that?" Emily said, reality reeling unwelcome back into her head.

"Well yes, it looks bad for the company, makes the clients uncomfortable. I almost feel bad for him, but if he was irresponsible enough to get it, I suppose he's got to live with that."

"Very compassionate mom." Emily could feel her stomach churning, is this what her mother would think of her?

"I'll save my compassion for the people in Africa Emily, they can't really help it. Anybody who gets the disease here is an idiot, and brought it on themselves." Her mother told her, while studying a silk blouse.

Emily felt sick, now how was she supposed to tell her mother that she had, or rather likely had that very disease? She couldn't believe her mother thought that, she seemed almost heartless. Would she feel the same way about her own daughter?

* * *

Matt woke up the next day slightly hung over; he and Alex had stayed parked at that bar well after it got dark. Not that it ever truly got dark in the city; no city ever truly sleeps, especially L.A. 

Slightly groggy Matt tried to figure out what to do with his day with no Emily, which he found harder than he would have thought. After drinking several cups of extra-strong, and yes, black coffee, Matt decided to head to the gym for the first time in months. He and Emily had found other, more enjoyable ways of burning calories.

Brushing thoughts of Emily out of his mind, Matt began jogging on the treadmill. But, he found that he wasn't the distraction he'd hoped it would be, as his mind wondered where he thought he'd forbidden it to go. So he pushed himself harder, cranking up the speed of the belt and raising the incline. He ran faster and faster, willing the burning in his limbs to take over his mind. When it began to hurt he only pushed himself harder; that was the beauty of the pain, the harder he pushed the more it hurt, until the pain was so severe that he couldn't think of anything else.

He couldn't think about the disease living in his blood, and he couldn't think about the same disease that he'd likely passed to Emily. He couldn't think about how he'd betrayed her, and more than likely lost the best relationship he'd been in, too many years to remember. He couldn't think about the handful of pills he be taking everyday for the rest of his life.

After he pushed his legs till they almost fell off, he drank some water, taking two aspirin with it. He moved on to one of the upper body machines, pumping his arms after adjusting it to the weight he was used to. Not satisfied with only the slight burn he was gaining form the workout, he pulled out the little key and moved it down several notches, adding weight. He once again began pumping, though this time, his arm muscles began to burn after only a few repetitions.

This is how Matt coped. He pushed himself willing the pain to take his mind far away from reality. And at the same time he was able to punish himself, as he told himself that he should have know better.

* * *

Emily coped a different way. At first she cleaned her apartment, the best cleaning she'd given it since she moved in. Nothing was done half-assed, she scrubbed, moped, vacuumed, and washed everything. She even oiled a squeaky door. Though Emily being a clean person, it didn't take too long, only a few hours. 

Giving up on ignoring the problem, Emily, ever the rational thinker, took it head on. She went to the local library, determine to study the disease that very likely plagued her body. Upon getting there she nervously went up to the computers, would these people think the way her mother did? Would they judge her, would they believe she deserved it?

Determined to hold her head up, Emily searched for HIV, and scanning the books and their location codes, determined the general vicinity she needed. The library had a wealth of books on HIV/AIDS, and she picked one up apprehensively. This one was on the history of the disease.

It started from the first reported case in the 1981 in a young gay men, and followed the disease as it was found in people with Haitian ancestry, hemophilia, I/V drug users, and in Europe and Africa, eventually spreading world wide. It was described as a pandemic, originating in Africa, contracted by hunters from the chimpanzees they killed.

This she could handle. It was like any other thing she had studied in high school, college, and the academy. It was hard information, with nothing personal, so she could distance herself from what she was reading.

She picked up another one, which focused on the virus, it's progression to AIDS, and the treatments. This would be harder. This first thing she saw upon opening was a photograph of young man, it was dated in the eighties. The next page had a photograph of the same young man, but he was barely recognizable. He was emaciated, every bonein his body protruding from his pale skin. He looked as if he'd aged 50 years, and his fragile body was covered in purple spots. There was less than a year difference between the photos of the young man who'd died of AIDS in 1982.

Emily hadn't realized her mouth had fallen open, or that she'd had stopped breathing for a moment, until she felt her heart pounding from the struggle to find oxygen. Brushing away the tears from her eyes, she grabbed the book and hurriedly checked it out, eager to return to her apartment. Though when she finally did get there, she through the book in the corner of couch and ignored it the rest of the day.

* * *

_The Next Day_

Now Cheryl had a reason to talk to them. Whatever was going on had finally made itself visible in their work, in the field no less. They hadn't screwed up per say, because any other pair of agents would likely have gotten the same results. Matt and Emily though, a week ago would have caught this, and the whole operation would have gone smoother.

But for whatever reason today, they weren't synced. Emily had admitted she'd suspected something was off with their HT, that he wasn't being honest about his past, and Matt admitted that he'd sensed something wasn't right. The problem was they hadn't informed each other of their suspicions, and they were barely able to talk him down.

Now Cheryl sat in her office waiting for them to get back. Their instructions were to see her immediately. But, honestly, she had no idea what she was going to say to them. She had been trying to figure that out when she got a call from Frank, who'd just left the scene. He'd told her what she'd already observed about the crisis situation today, and asked if she knew "what the hell was up with those two?"

She admitted that she had no idea, and was dealing with it. Tapping her pen on her desk, she pinched the bridge of her nose, desperately trying to think how she could deal with this without invading their privacy. She was startled by a tapping at her door.

"Cheryl, you wanted to see us?" The two people in question popped into her view, and she'd thought briefly how normal they seemed at the moment.

"Yes, come in and close the door." She'd already made sure that her curtains were closed; she wanted to be as discrete as possible.

Once both agents were seated, while Cheryl stood, leaning against her desk, she began to speak.

"Alright guys, I'm not going to beat around the bush on this; what the hell is going on?" They both looked at her totally blankly.

"A week ago I get a phone call from Matt telling me, what was it? You two had something to take care of, but you could tell me anything about it. I just had to trust you. The next day your acting like you barely know each other, and you act the same way all week, and today…What happened?"

"Nothing, we just…nothing." Matt told her dumbly.

"Don't lie to me. Lia and Frank have noticed too. Honestly, I'm just worried."

"We're fine Cheryl." Emily tried to reassure her.

"Really, than how come you two seem to have lost your personalities?" She asked, getting annoyed with their stonewalling.

"We're just having an off day." Matt lied.

"This is off the record Matt, I'm not asking as your boss, I'm asking as your friend. Are you two alright?"

They were both squirming slightly now, a dead give away to Cheryl that there was indeed something they were hiding from everyone.

"Alright, the only explanation I can think of is that your involved in something illegal; tell me I'm wrong." She said challenging them.

"Your wrong." Emily said flatly.

"Then what is going on?" She looked at them both, as they sat silently, apparently determined to keep their secret.

"Guys, please just tell what's wrong, maybe I can help." She was near pleading now.

Still, they kept them mouths tightly closed, not giving anything away.

"Alright, don't tell me. But, you two weren't at your best today, whatever is going on, if you won't talk to me about it, you need to talk to each other. If I keep seeing what I'm seeing, I'll will pull you both from the field."

"What! Why? We talked the guy in today." Matt demanded.

"Yes, but just barely. You're my best team, I don't want to pull you, but if you keep this up, I will." It wasn't so much a threat as it was a plea for them fix whatever problems they were having.

The pair simply stared at Cheryl, and she sat staring back for a little while, hoping one of them would break and tell her what was going on. Finally she gave in, "You're excused."

The pair left, the distance between them still as obvious as it had been when they came in. Once the door was closed, Emily pulled Matt to the side.

"She's right Matt. We need to talk. But not here, and not now." She told him, her hand, still gently clasping his arm.

He nodded, "You want to come to my place tonight, we can talk…"

"Yeah, seven?" They both knew they'd be stuck doing paperwork on this case until after six.

"Are you going to drive over, or do you want to come with me?" He asked her tentatively.

"Uh, I'll just drive." She said nervously.

He nodded confirmation, and they slowly walked back to their desks.

* * *

_Okay, so a had a tiny bit of writer's block with this one, but I think I straightened it out. This one isn't completely Matt and Emily, as the previous four have largely been, but really I can only describe what's going on with them so much before it begins to get repetative. And, as always thank you to all my readers, and nicky j, Bite Beccy, and TBrennanFan for their reviews._


	6. Chapter 6

That night Emily followed Matt to his apartment nervously, her stomach in knots as her nervous hands struggled to keep the steering wheel steady. Pulling in beside him, she momentarily rested her head on the wheel, trying to calm her nerves before hoping out of the SUV, and meeting in by the buildings entrance.

If Emily was nervous, Matt was completely freaking out. Was this it? Would this be the night that Emily told him it was over? Would the last thing he spoke to her about be how they would deal with their shared disease? Thoughts like these ran through his head, and he prayed that he wouldn't lose her yet, though he believed he deserved to.

"Uh coffee?" he suggested as he flicked the lights on and they ambled nervously into his apartment. Emily nodded though she really didn't care; it made this meeting slightly less awkward, though slightly was being generous.

Matt ambled around his kitchen, grabbing a filter and container of coffee, happy for anything to keep his hands busy. As if it would keep his mind busy as well.

It didn't last long though, and the couple was resigned to standing uncomfortably, both pairs of eyes traveling anywhere but each other.

"Em, I don't know what to say." Matt blurted out, hoping she'd give him guidance.

"Yeah, me neither," she admitted shyly. _Emily Lehman shy?_ But when Matt didn't speak again, she suddenly felt everything she'd been feeling the last few days fly to the front of her thoughts and demand to be said.

"I can't stand this Matt." There was a twinge of anger in her voice.

"I know-" he began to say, but she cut him off.

"No you don't! You don't know what I'm feeling, Matt, because you know what, I don't even know! I don't know what I'm supposed to be feeling. Can you tell me that, can you explain to me, what I should feel right now?" Her tone started off angry, but by the end it was a plea.

He shook his head, his heart breaking for her.

"I'm angry. I'm angry at you, I'm angry at myself, I'm angry at…at…at that woman! I'm hurt, because I trusted you, I trusted you Matt!" He could her the tears beginning in her voice.

"Em-" He went to take her hand try to comfort her, but she pulled away angrily.

"No! I'm not finished! God, why the hell did we stop using condoms?! Why the hell didn't you use condoms with, with, what is her name?" She demanded.

"Tracy." He told her quietly.

"Tracy…Tracy…does she know who gave it to her?" Matt had never seen Emily like this, distraught didn't come close to describing her now.

"No, not yet, she's just started telling her…partners."

"I hate her." She said quietly. "And I want to hate you. God, it would be so much easier if I could just hate you. But I can't…damn it."

He just looked at her sadly as the first tears began to fall from her eyes.

"I can't, I can't. I just want to hate you! Why can't I hate you! Damn it, Damn it, Damn it…" The tears flowed freely down her cheeks now, and it looked as if she might just collapse any minute.

Matt tried to grab her, tried to comfort her, but she pushed away again, anger adding to hysteria.

"No! No! No damn it! Don't! Don't you dare! You don't get to! You don't get to! Fuck Matt! You gave me HIV!" she spat at him.

Matt, who looked like he was two seconds from diving put his window, ran a hand through his hair, and tried to plead with her. "I don't know what to say to make this better Em-"

"Say? Say? You think an apology can fix this?!"

"No! God, of course not. But I don't know what I'm supposed to do here."

"Nothing Matt. Those tests will come back and there isn't a damn thing you can do. It's too late." She was quieter now, with silent tears pouring down her face.

"I know, and I wish I could go back in time and fix it Em, but I can't." He paused for a moment, "Do you know what I'd give for those first test results to be right?" He asked her.

She looked at him perplexed; with the first results he was still positive.

"I could live with that, I could live with being sick. But know that I hurt you, and I don't know if I can live with that." He told her quietly.

Emily was looking at him and nodding her head in that way people do when they've just gotten the cherry on top of an already awful day, and they think to themselves that they should have expected it. She looked just as pissed as she had, tears were dripping off her nose and cheeks, and she looked close to loosing it.

"You know every time I trust a guy, it always blows up in my face?" She seemed calm, which only made Matt more nervous. He just watched her and listened.

"Yeah, there was Eddie, the one guy I actually dated in high school, I slept with him and he told everyone I was easy. Then Greg, in college, he slept with my roommate, James, one of my professors, who thought I preferred an A to a relationship." She was listing them and looking at the floor now.

"Kyle was the biggest egomaniac that you'll ever meet, John liked to hit, but I wasn't with him long. Then I went on a string of one night stands to avoid that mess." She paused and looked up at him.

"And then I met you, Matt. And I questioned everything my past taught me about men, because you broke all the rules. Before I knew it, you had me trusting you almost completely…and then…this…and I have another to add to my pantheon of bad experiences."

"Em-"

"No. No. Do you know how I got through all those?" On the surface she seemed to have control, but inside she was like a ball of string that a cat had caught the end to.

"How?" Matt asked quietly.

"I hated them. Yeah, probably not a shrink-approved method, but it worked. Hating made it so much easier to swallow what they did, and move on. But, now I can't."

He continued just listening, hoping her venting would help her cope, even if she did hate him.

"Because you really aren't like them, you won't let me hate you. Why?" She was staring at him unfocused as if her sanity were hanging by a thread as tears continued pouring out her eyes.

Matt struggled for words, he didn't know what to tell her; he was barely following her.

"It's not fair. You gave me HIV, Matt! And you won't let me hate you!" She cried at him, pounding his chest with her fists, as she slowly began to disintegrate before him. She'd stopped hitting him and grabbed his shirt, falling into him, crying hysterically into his chest. "God, please just let me hate you! I need to hate you! I can't deal with this! Just let me hate you…I have to hate you Matt. Please, please, please, just let me hate you…I need to, I need to…"

Matt was nervous at first, not sure what to do, if she'd pull away again, so he slowly lifted his arms, and gently enveloped her in them. Hoping they'd take away her pain, but knowing they wouldn't. Now it was his turn to cry. He could feel the tears begin to fall from his eyes as he held her.

"I can't…I can't…" She cried, "I can't do this, I can't handle this."

"I know, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Emily." He pleaded, knowing it would mean little to her. To his surprise she tightened her grip, pressing closer to him. He held her for several minutes as she cried, now more quietly, in his arms. He had slowly moved them toward the couch, and now sat down, guiding her as she still cried in his arms.

Twenty minutes later all was silent, as Matt carried and exhausted Emily into his bedroom. After he laid her down, and brought the blankets over her, he migrated back to his couch, hoping for sleep.

Neither had been sleeping well the past several days, the waiting and possibilities too much for them. But at this moment, the exhaustion and the little comfort they received from each other made sleep come easier.

* * *

"So, you get anything from FBI-LA's favorite couple?" Frank asked Cheryl as she entered their bar, and tiredly plopped down at the table occupied by the team.

"Other than yes they have a problem, no." She said stilling a sip of Frank's beer. "Lia has Emily said anything to you?"

"Nope, she's barely said anything lately." Lia played with the straw in her cosmopolitan.

"You think Lehman's pregnant?" Frank blurted out.

"No, I asked Matt that already. The thought never even crossed his mind, trust me."

"So they didn't give you anything?"

"Just that whatever is going on it's not illegal." She said shrugging.

"That narrows it down. Come on did you really think Emily would do something illegal?"

"I don't know. I notice you're not giving Matt the benefit of a doubt."

"Flannery almost has a bad boy thing going on, almost. But, Emily is definitely a good girl, she goes by the rules." Frank explained.

"I don't know about that, she did get involved with Matt, that isn't exactly playing by the rules." Lia corrected.

"Yeah, but illegal stuff?" Duff loved to argue with Lia.

"Maybe, if Matt got his ass in trouble, but I don't think he would."

"So where does that leave us?" Frank asked interrupting their banter.

They all looked around at each other, completely out of ideas.

"Cheryl you've known Matt longer than any of us, any ideas?"

"I don't know, the last time he was like this was when he find out Krissy was cheating on him. He barely spoke for a week."

"You think Emily cheated on him?" Lia asked, clearly shocked by the idea.

"Lehman's not the type." Frank jumped in.

"Of course I don't think that, but that's the only time I remember him acting so upset."

The table was quiet again, contemplating their friends, when a cell phone went off, and simultaneously thy all reached for belts and purses. Each yanked theirs out, but Cheryl was the winner, growling when she saw the caller id- work.

"Carrera."

"When?"

"Christ, alright, we'll be there." She hung up and turned to the group.

"We have a situation in a bodega on 118th and Chester. A man took three customers, the owner, his wife and their four kids, all under ten, hostage twenty minutes ago. Lia back to the office and do your magic, guys name is Gary Marks. Frank assemble HRT and head over there." She said punching numbers into her phone.

"Are you using Flannery and Lehman?" Frank asked her. She nodded at three concerned faces and shooed them away.

* * *

Emily groggily came out of sleep out at the sound of her phone going off, and reached for her purse, which Matt and put on the bed stand. She didn't really remember getting there, and she noticed Matt wasn't with her. Her head began to pound reminding her she'd fallen asleep after crying for god knows how long.

"Lehman." She sounded like shit.

"Emily, are you alright?" Cheryl's voice came at her really loudly.

"Fine, what's up?"

"Situation, I need you and Matt," she paused. "If you're up to it?"

"Yeah, we'll be there, where is it?"

"Are you sure, I can get Baker and Jones?"

"No Cheryl, I'm fine."

"What about Matt, he didn't answer his phone?"

"He's sleeping, we both were." Cheryl didn't comment on that fact that it wasn't even ten o'clock yet.

"Fine, I'll trust you. It's at 118th and Chester, I'll give you more when you get there."

"Right, bye." Emily hung up and groggily went to get Matt, but not before catching herself in a mirror. Her eyes were still red and puffy from crying. Great that would inspire confidence, she thought.

* * *

"Hey Cheryl, what's happened?" Emily asked as her and Matt arrived at the scene, now congested with LAPD patrol cars and HRT's vans and whatnot.

Cheryl looked them over. They didn't look so good. It was obvious Emily had been crying a lot very recently, though she'd tried to cover it with makeup. Matt didn't look as bad, but his eyes were bloodshot, so Cheryl could tell Matt had been crying too. And that scared her; it took her less than a hand to count the times Matt Flannery had cried.

"Are you two good to do this?"

"Yes." They both answered quickly, too quickly for her.

"You better be sure about that, because if your not and something goes wrong, not matter how good you two are or how much I may like you, I'll fire you on the spot. So again, are you to good to do this?"

"I'm fine." Emily said with more conviction than she felt.

"Yeah." Matt agreed.

Both were suddenly much more aware of the situation, they now had their careers riding on it.

Almost six hours later Matt was acting as primary, trying to calm down the distraught man with the gun. As it turned out, Gary Marks had been recently diagnosed with a brain tumor, and was not handling his sudden mortality well. Screaming at Matt, he'd explained that he only wanted to get enough money for his kids to live off of.

He and his wife were poor, they both worked jobs, but the rent and kids took everything the made; he didn't have life insurance. This was his way of making sure his kids were taken care of after his death.

"I don't have no insurance man, how are my kids gonna live?" Gary demanded.

"Your wife can get money from the government. They'll help her and your kids." Matt tried to soothe him.

"You don't get it man, they'll see we're poor and try and take our babies away from her."

"You kids go to school right?"

"Yeah, of course."

"And they get enough to eat."

"What do you think I starve them?"

"And you've never hit them right?"

"Man what the hell do you think I am? I love my kids, I ain't never gonna hurt them."

"Then they won't take them away. They'll try and give your wife the money she needs to take care of them."

"Right, at first maybe, but then they'll say she can't take care of them good enough. She'll loose them, that'd kill her."

"And this won't?!" Matt demanded angrily. After four hours of arguing the same points, he'd nearly had it.

"Whadda you mean?"

"You don't think know that you've got nine people hostage, including four young kids, isn't tearing your wife apart right now?"

"She knows why I'm doing it."

"Then how about your kids?"

"What about em?"

"Do you want this to be the way they remember you?"

"My Mary, she'll tell our babies I did it for them."

"Bullshit."

"What did you say to me?!" Gary was getting angry now, and Cheryl was shooting Emily, who stood near Matt, a variety of 'what the hell is he doing' looks.

"I said that's bullshit. You aren't doing this for your kids!"

"What the hell do you know man!"

"You're doing this because your scared and pissed, and you know what that's fine. You're dying you should be scared and pissed."

"You can't tell me what I should be feeling man! You don't know what I'm going through!"

"The hell I don't!" Matt snapped at him, before realizing that he was dangerously close to revealing their secret. While four people sat listening suddenly stunned at the sudden revelation, and a fifth prayed he didn't spill this secret the way he had their last one, Matt calmed himself down.

"I know that when the doctor told you that you were dying you felt your stomach turn inside out, your blood starting pumping in your ears, and you thought you might faint. I know you want to hate the world and scream 'why' at the top of your lungs, but you know it won't change anything. I know part of you wants to give up right now, because it would be easier than facing it. And I know when you look at you wife, you just want to hold her for the rest of your life, because with that moment of clarity facing your death provided, you realized that if you lived spent the rest of your life with her and died at 99, it would still be too short a time." Matt paused. "Tell me I'm wrong."

The line was silent as they waited for a response, and Matt could hear Emily's breath catch behind him as she stopped the tears before they came. She came to stand just close enough to him so that he could feel her there while still appearing professional. Then the line suddenly came alive again.

"Man, what am I gonna do?" Gary sounded like he was on the verge of tears. "I can't leave Mary alone, and I can't leave my babies without a daddy, and now I can't fix this."

"That's no true, Gary, you can fix this. You put down that gun, and come out here, and will bring you in alive. The prosecutors will be lenient. You plea, and they'll make sure your wife gets all the welfare LA can offer."

"I don't know man."

"Think about your kids, Ben and Keara need you while you're still alive Gary. Let them have a father for a little longer."

"Alright, Alright," Gary said after a brief silence. "I'm commin out."

Matt sighed in relief as Gary hung up and stepped outside, dropping his gun. HRT stormed in and all hell broke loose as it always does when they get the HT. He sat down exhausted, as Emily went out to talk to HRT and hostages. He closed his eyes and ran his hands over his face. When opened his eyes again, Cheryl was in front of him, looking concerned and visibly upset.

"Matt…are you sick?"

"Uh…when I was a kid they thought I hade lupus." He half-lied. They thought he had lupus for all of ten minutes.

"That's what that was about?" She sounded relieved.

"Yep, that's it."

"You're not lying to me are you?"

"Of course not." He half-lied again; Cheryl didn't look like she believed him entirely. He was saved by Emily coming back toward them.

"Well, good work you two." She said as she went off to talk to Frank.

"Did you tell her?" Emily asked nervously.

"No." They stood in an awkward silence for several minutes, shuffling their feet, looking anywhere but each other.

"If you two want to do your write-ups now," Cheryl told them, referring to the portion of their reports that consisted of their account of events, "you can have today off, and finish your reports Wednesday."

The couple nodded and headed back to the office to start their reports. The write-ups didn't take too long, it was a fairly short standoff comparatively, and they were soon on their way back to Matt's apartment to finish their conversation. Instead, once inside they mutually agreed on sleep first, and the two exhausted agents passed out in Matt's bed. This of course was only after ten minutes of Emily arguing with Matt that he didn't need to take the couch.

* * *

Emily woke up first, and lay quietly for a while thinking. The sun was just starting to descend, so it was still pretty light; it had to be close to six o'clock. She turned back toward a still sleeping Matt. She wanted to hate him so badly, this whole mess would be easier to handle if she had someone to blame. But she couldn't, he didn't get HIV on purpose, and certainly didn't give it to her on purpose. And if she was going to blame him she'd have to blame herself, she could have asked him to get tested, or she could have told him to keep using condoms. Either way, she knew he was just as scared as she was.

She got up, partly because her thoughts were making her jumpy, and partly because she wanted coffee. By now she knew Matt's apartment almost as well as her own, and had no trouble finding what she needed. Out of a need to keep her hands moving, she added cinnamon to the grinds, before flipping the switch on.

Matt came out of the bedroom as she was fixing her cup, still yawning and stretching. He wanted to go up behind her and wraps his arms around her, as he would have done a week ago, and nuzzle his face in her hair, which always smelled like flowers. He couldn't do that now though, though he needed to so badly.

Instead he poured himself a cup of coffee, and the couple sat at his small table, silently sipping their coffee. After they finished their first cups they sat in silence, as they often found themselves over the last week, before both rising to get refills.

"The coffee tastes different." Matt said quietly, breaking the quiet.

"Cinnamon."

"Oh…it's good."

"Thanks."

"We should talk."

"Yeah."

"Right."

"I'm so scared right now." Emily suddenly blurted out. "What if those test come back positive? What are we supposed to do?" She asked him, her voice fearful.

"Take the medication they give us and pray it works. People are living longer now with HIV they ever have before, we can still live." Emily had broken the barrier and now they were both slewing through everything on their minds.

"We're going to have to tell our insurance company, and they'll find out at work. What if they fire us?"

"They can't fire us, it's discrimination."

"They'll know we were seeing each other, they can fire us based on that."

"We'll figure it out Em, if it comes to that, we'll figure it out." He knew she was right, if the FBI found out their HIV status, they'd know that two of their agents were sleeping together, and they'd have a non-discriminatory excuse. They were both silent for a few moments, unsure of what to say.

"My brother is getting a promotion because the guy above him was fired when they found out he had HIV." Emily told him quietly.

Matt didn't respond, he didn't know how too. But, after a few moments he heard Emily's breathing shudder, and realized Emily was crying.

"Em?"

"Even my own mother thinks I deserve this Matt." She told him, a flood of tears rushing down her cheeks.

"She told you that?" Matt asked clearly upset by the thought.

"She said anybody who gets HIV in this country is an idiot and brought it on themselves." Emily cried harder remembering her mother's words; she felt sick to her stomach.

"Emily, listen to me," he told her, gently turning her face up to look at his. "Nobody deserves HIV. You didn't get this because you were careless, you got it because you trusted me, and I got it because I trusted Tracy. We do not deserve HIV because we trusted people. You have to know that."

She nodded and rested her head against him once more. He held her tight, gaining as much comfort from her as she was from him. Her questions were running through his head; what were they going to do if the tests came back positive? Could they tell anybody? Could they trust anybody?

"There is something more we need to talk about Em." He told her softly.

She looked at him again, a question in her eyes.

"When people go through…things like this, it either tears them apart or brings them closer together. We need to figure out which we're going to be, and if we can still work together." He looked down as he said the last part; he didn't want to admit he might lose her completely.

"We have to figure this out now?" She was looking at him now, her hands still resting on his chest. The last thing she wanted to do was try and figure out what was left of their relationship, she had more than enough to deal with.

"Unless we want to get interrogated by Cheryl again, or unless we're prepared to go in tomorrow morning and tell her what's going on." They didn't have a choice; if they didn't figure out what was going on between them, then their work would continue to suffer, even if they did do well that day.

When she didn't respond, just stared at the table and played with the napkin she'd used to wipe her tears, Matt spoke again.

"Em, I don't want to lose you, but if you need it, I'll let go. I won't fight you on it." He hoped to god she say no, but she nodded and his heart broke. Time seemed to stand still as he realized he'd lost her, that she was ending their relationship. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Matt?" She asked looking at him.

"Yeah?" He had to restrain himself from telling her not to do this, that he loved her. He'd promised her he wouldn't fight her.

"I don't know if I can go through this alone." She said looking into his eyes. Matt was a confused for a few moments, before he realized what had happened. The nod she'd given was that she understood what he was saying.

"You don't have to." He said softly, relief flooding through him. He took her hand and scooted his chair close to her, wrapping her arms around her, and she did the same, laying her head on his chest as she'd done the night before.

It wasn't perfect, but it might just get them through the next several days, until their test results came back.

* * *

_I rewrote this chapter in my head about a half a dozen times before I finally got this out, there are still parts I'm not too sure about. I think there will only be one more chapter, which will hopefully be done Sunday. Anyway, thank you nickyj, TBrennanFan, Bite Beccy, justawriter, and twinmuse for reviewing, and all my readers. _


	7. Chapter 7

Over the next few days Matt and Emily were considerably less awkward with each other. There was still a certain feeling between them of not knowing quite how to treat each other, but it only surfaced on occasion, usually before they went home for the night. Each time it was an awkward few minutes of trying to determine if they'd being going home together, and to who's apartment.

Matt didn't want to push Emily; he wanted to give her room to feel whatever she was feeling, even if it was anger towards him. Emily still didn't know what she was feeling half the time. It felt like she was feeling everything at once, so while she wanted nothing more than to snuggle with Matt and maybe gets a decent night's sleep, part of her was still having trouble forgiving him. Of course whenever she felt angry with him, she also became angry with herself.

Cheryl still watched them like a hawk, worried about what was going on with them, but their improved behavior eased her fears a bit. She and the rest of the gang could tell something was still going on, but the couple seemed to have resolved some of it, so things were pretty much normal at work. Though Matt and Emily hadn't gone out with the gang in over a week, which was odd, since the group usually went out together at least twice a week. This is why Lia flagged Emily down as she came out of her last class before lunch.

"Emily!"

"Lia, hey, what's going on?"

"I'm heading to lunch, come with me? Unless of course you're going with Matt?"

"No, not today, I think he's playing paintball with the guys."

"Yeah, Duff says he hasn't been down there in a while." Emily just shrugged as the two women headed down to the FBI cafeteria, which wasn't half bad considering the government budget.

They chatted mindlessly while they got there food and paid, but once at the table, Lia, on the verge of exploding, finally asked Emily what they'd all been dying to know the last week and a half.

"So what the hell is going on with you and Matt?"

"What?"

"Don't play dumb Emily, it doesn't work coming from you."

"Alright, Lia, please don't be upset, I just really don't want to talk about this…please?" Lia had never heard Emily plead, and for the first time she realized how shaken her friend was just from the mention of…well, whatever this was.

"Okay, but you know we're all worried about you, even Frank and Duff. We all know something is wrong."

"We're working on it." Emily said looking down at her Caesar salad. Lia nodded dropping the subject, but still worried.

"So, will you guys come out with us tonight? You haven't been out in a while."

"Uh, I don't know-" Emily began her excuse before Lia cut her off.

"What if I promise that nobody will ask about whatever it is that's got you and Matt…not acting like you and Matt?" Lia coaxed not know what to call whatever it was.

"You think you can keep Frank and Duff, let alone Cheryl who's your boss, from saying anything?" Emily challenged her friend, slightly amused at the idea.

"If you and Matt come out with us, they'll all keep their mouths shut." Lia said with confidence.

"Really? Why?" Now Emily was curious.

Lia was quiet for a few minutes before speaking. "You and Matt haven't gone out with us for close to two weeks, you've barely spoken to anyone besides each other in nearly a week and a half, a few days of which you barely spoke to each other. You've both been nervous, exhausted, sad, and even almost scared, and you won't tell us why. If you two come out with us, like you used to, then we get to pretend that maybe it isn't as big a deal as it feels like, that maybe your both okay."

Emily was silent as she realized that her and Matt's current predicament was having an affect on more than just the two of them. "Are we going to the bar?"

Lia smiled, "Yep, right after work."

* * *

Frank and Duff arrived last, having to clean themselves up after their third straight paintball practice. Matt had played in the first one, which had become a tradition after his challenge to Duff, after he called Emily a bitch. Matt tried endlessly to defeat him; he had yet to win.

"What's everybody drinking?" Frank asked loudly as he and Duff reached the table.

"Beers." Matt held his up as an example.

"See, I told you." Duff said to Frank just slightly above a whisper.

"Told him what?" Cheryl asked.

"Uh…girls like beer." Frank covered badly.

"Liar. You've seen all three of us drink beer dozens of times before." Emily called his lie.

"He thought you were pregnant." Duff said not concerned that it was a big deal.

"I told you I already asked Matt that." Cheryl reminded him.

"Well, Flannery could have been lying, their pretty good at that you know." Frank said referring to the truth stretching negotiators had to engage in, in their jobs.

"Whoa wait," Emily stopped the volleying, "why does everyone think I'm pregnant?" She realized shortly after speaking that she probably didn't want to open that door.

"Because neither of you will tell us what's really going on." Cheryl said slightly annoyed.

"Hey, hey, waiter's here, what are we eating?" Lia steered away from the conversation she'd promised they wouldn't have.

After food and more beers were order the group got into an easier conversation discussing recent cases, love lives (excluding Matt and Emily), families, and of course the most recent changes implemented by Washington, that were making their lives more difficult.

"They want me to log now every time I hack into somewhere, you what a nuisance that's going to be?" Lia explained her problem with the newest changes.

"Yeah, well they want me to account for paintball shells, who the hell pays attention to how many paintballs they use?"

"Then why did you have three trainings today?" Cheryl pointed out.

"New rules don't start till Monday." Frank told her smiling. "That means more tomorrow too, you up for it Flannery?"

"I don't know man, I'm going to welts from today."

"Wuss."

"He has paperwork he needs to get to me anyway." Cheryl reminded him.

"I only have two more pages to finish on the Marks case, then all five reports will be on your desk."

"Really? Marks is the one from the other day?"

Matt nodded.

"Wow, normally I wouldn't expect that for another month, at least. Emily is having a good effect on you."

That got the whole group laughing. Matt was notorious for putting off his paperwork until Cheryl had to yell at him to do it. Not that she wasn't used to that, as partners she had to do the same thing, and their boss at the time was less forgiving.

"Oooh! This is a good song, lets dance!" Lia said as a new song came from the DJ in the corner. And with only a few grunts and groans everyone in the group made it out to the dance floor.

After only about two songs Cheryl and Frank called it quits and headed back to the table, falling into easy conversation. Meanwhile Matt and Emily were enjoying a much-needed release, and Lia and Duff were grinding away and burning up the dance floor, Duff somehow keeping up with the energetic Lia.

Even when a slow song came on, they two didn't stop, they just danced slower while talking and giggling. Matt and Emily did stop either, he pulled her closer as she rested her head on his shoulder, and both closed their eyes.

"Uh Cheryl?" Frank interrupted their conversation. He looked over at the dance floor briefly to see if Lia and Duff were dancing, and before turning back, had gotten a glimpse of Matt and Emily.

"What? I'm not dancing." She said quickly.

"No, not that, look there." He pointed to the duo. "You might have some problems in the near future."

"Until they tell me their engaged, or screw-up in the field, I don't see anything." She'd already realized how close her negotiators had become, and knew their relationship was way past casual.

"With your skills at picking partners you could be a matchmaker." Frank tried to keep a straight faced, but failed miserably, cracking up.

Cheryl just glared at him.

* * *

The next day, Emily was in class when her phone went off. She quickly silenced it, checking the number, one she didn't recognized and resumed her teaching. New classes had started so she was back at the beginning of her manual, describing how to first make contact with and HT.

Several floors down, Matt was taking a breather as he looked himself over, his clothes covered in red paint. Slight hangovers from the night before had made them all cranky and merciless, though Matt still lost, as always. As he examined a particularly painful welt, where a paintball had hit a sore spot from the day before, his phone went off. The little device screamed at him to be answered as he checked the unfamiliar number, and shrugged and answered it.

"Matt Flannery?"

"Yeah, what can I do for you?"

"It's Margaret Jefferson, from the Hope Clinic."

"Did you get our results back?" Matt demanded immediately.

"Yeah, I haven't looked at them yet though. Do you two want to come in tonight, and we'll look at them together?"

"Yeah, uh yes, what time do the clinic close?"

"It doesn't, but I usually leave by eight. Can you guys make it in before then?"

"Absolutely, we'll be there." Two clicks and Matt was left needing badly to sit down, as the emotions and fears he'd put at bay attacked him with a vengeance. His stomach began to churn, his pulse raced, and while he was sweating before, it now began to pour off him in rivers.

"Hey Matt? Are you okay?" Frank came in and saw his friend looking much paler than he had before.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure, we didn't getcha in the balls did we?" He asked jokingly.

"No, you hit every other part of my body though." Matt joked back, trying to hide the panic he was feeling.

"You had enough for today?"

"Yeah, I think I'll cut my losses. I'm going to need to take stock in Advil tonight." Frank laughed at him, as he went back to the kill zone, as they called their battlefield.

Ten minutes later Matt was sneaking into Emily's classroom as he had last week, quietly taking a seat in the back. As she was speaking, she walked around below her class, her eyes hitting all sides of the room, trying to keep her students' focus. She caught site of Matt and smiled, before wondering what was going on. She'd just gotten a call, and now Matt was in her classroom. If it was a situation, he would have interrupted her class, as he had so many times before. They both knew that no teacher in history missed and cut short as many classes as Emily, because she was constantly going into the field.

When she looked up toward him again and saw he was still there, she was momentarily relieved, he hadn't left, as he had the last time he came. She continued lecturing, though her mind was certainly elsewhere, and she struggled to keep her train of thought. For the next ten minutes she explained the concept of never hanging up, and answered several asinine hypotheticals about times when you can hang up.

"Alright, any other questions?" She asked praying no hands would go up. "Great, I'll see you all Monday." As her class piled out, she gathered her papers and materials, knowing Matt would make his way down to her.

"If this is our next crop of negotiators I think we should worry." He greeted her.

"They'll learn, besides only a few of them actually become negotiators. What's up?" She had finished gathering herself and was looking at him, noticing the fear in his eyes.

"Margaret Jefferson called."

"Our results?" She felt panic rising in her throat, but remained shockingly calm.

"Works done in two minutes, are you ready?"

"Yeah, let's go. Whose car are we taking?" They began walking toward the elevator.

"I'll drive."

* * *

The clinic looked just as it had when they first came. It had been eleven days since them came to get tested, and thirteen since they had found out they could have HIV. Less than two weeks and it felt like a lifetime had passed in that time. It was unbelievable what two weeks of waiting could do to a person's mind. Emily was ready to bolt as soon as they got out of the car. The only thing keeping her in place was Matt's hand wrapped around hers. Matt continually swallowed, trying to keep the bile from rising any higher in his throat.

At triage they explained what they were there for, and were instructed to sit and wait. The paint was the same color, the nurses were the same people, the floors had the same ugly tile, and their reason for being their was nearly the same. The only thing that had changed was the people who waited with them.

Several homeless people sat around with no real medical needs, just enjoying a break from the streets. Two women were there with children, and a teenager was off to the side, her huge pregnant belly keeping her from finding a comfortable position. There was also an old man who was having trouble breathing, and a young man with sweat pouring off him, obviously feverish.

"Matt, Emily," Margaret came out to get them, as a twenty-something man stumbled in moaning, grabbing his bloody eye socket as the red liquid rushed down his face and hand, one of his beautiful brown eyes hanging out. Margaret ran up to the man, as Emily scooted closer to Matt.

"Sorry, I have to take care of him first, I'll get you two when I'm done." She said hurriedly as she escorted the man through to the exam room. Matt and Emily just sat silently together, waiting to be told their fate.

An hour later she came to get them again, this time no being waylaid by any bloody, moan people.

"Did that man lose his eye?" Emily asked curiously.

"Not yet, I sent him over to Saint Michael's, I'll know when their done." She told them referring to a nearby hospital. "How have you both been?"

She led them to her office, and gestured for them sit in the two seats in front of her desk, before taking her own seat and rummaging through papers. The only response she got to her question was distracted nods.

"Ah! Here it is, let's see…" She pulled open the envelope, silent for a minute as she read through the results, nodding here and there.

Emily grabbed Matt's hand, needing all the comfort she could get while the doctor perused their results. Matt squeezed her hand, needing her just as badly.

Then Margaret looked up and smiled at them, "Congratulations, the first test was a false positive, both your results here are negative."

* * *

_I couldn't really make it positive could I? Too sad, and I think I've screwed with their heads enough. Anyway, thank you to all my readers and nickyj, TBrennanFan, justawritier, Bite Beccy, and twinmuse for reviewing. And TBrennanFan, you get your wish, there will be one more chapter._


	8. Chapter 8

That was it; that was the end. There was no more waiting, no more wondering, no more fearing the worst. Never having been in the position herself, Margaret Jefferson could never really know what the man and woman in front of her were feeling or thinking. Sure she'd been the person giving the results a thousand times, and seen every reaction in the book, but that could never really even touch on the whirlwind of emotions these people were experiencing in front of her.

For Emily it was disbelief. It wasn't that she didn't want to believe it, it was that after almost two weeks it was just too damn good to be true. After they'd gotten the tests done, she'd never let herself believe they could actually come back negative. She never let herself believe that she wouldn't leave that doctor's office on this night, and not be desperately trying to convince herself that suicide wasn't the answer.

As the shock began to wear off, the emotions from the past week began to set in, and Emily Lehman bowed her head and covered her face with her hands. Then she let the tears begin to slide down her pale cheeks, soaking her palms, as gentle sobs began to shake her thin frame.

For Matt it was near deranged euphoria. He skipped shock and tears; his mind had been too assaulted over that short time period to bother with feeling either. Having hit as low as it could, his brain turned all his emotions to the extreme.

Matt cupped his hands over his mouth, taking only a few seconds to process what the kind doctor had said, before he broke out laughing. It wasn't just a gentle giggle, but rather full-blown, body-shaking laughter. It didn't last long though, as Emily's quiet sobs brought his euphoria down several notches, or at least enough to wrap an arm over her bent body, and pull her against his chest.

As Matt held Emily against him and rubbed circles in her back, trying to relax her, Margaret slipped out of her office, letting the couple absorb their news alone, while she called to check on her eyeball-less patient.

* * *

After offering sincere thank yous to their doctor and bidding the sad clinic goodbye forever, Matt and Emily headed back home. Emily laid back against the passenger seat, still trying to convince her mind of the truth, while Matt tensely navigated the streets of L.A. 

Sure this was fantastic news; hell it was almost more than he could hope for, but there was still one question he needed answered. Would his relationship with Emily survive now that this was over? Now that she no longer needed his support, could she forgive him for putting them through this?

Matt knew what he wanted, and yes, he'd admit it, needed. He needed her; he'd fallen for her, hard, and couldn't go back. But as he looked over to the other side of the car, where a very tired-looking Emily rested her head against the window, he wondered if his was hoping for too much.

Before he even knew it, he pulled in at Emily's apartment building, gently guiding the car to what was likely the last open parking space. He sat quietly, waiting for his passenger to speak or leave, but Emily had yet to even unbuckle her seatbelt.

After a few more minutes she slowly brought her head up from the window, sitting staring out the windshield and the hood of the car opposite them. Then seeming to suddenly come out of her trance, she unbuckled her belt, and grabbed the door handle. She didn't pull it. She turned to Matt, and spoke so quietly he almost didn't hear her.

"Stay with me tonight?"

Afraid to speak and break the dream that seemed to have found him, Matt simply nodded, and climbed out of the car, locking the doors behind him.

He wrapped an arm around her waist as she rested her head tiredly against his shoulder, and the two walked, only slightly awkwardly, to the elevator, and then to her apartment.

She had to break their comfortable position to get the key in the lock, and relock the door once inside, but soon she'd attached herself to him once again. Now she was pressed against him, and her lips against his, capturing him in an unexpected kiss. Her hands roamed around his back, as Matt struggled to figure out what was going on. As a man he wanted to go wherever she was leading, but as the man who loved her, he wasn't so sure she was ready.

"Em…Em are you sure you want this?" He fought to break their mouths apart long enough to ask her.

She nodded her head, "I need this Matt…so much." She wished that she could say she simply felt tired or even drained, but at that moment Emily felt dead. Her body had maxed out emotionally, and simply gone numb. She needed to feel again.

And Matt wasn't any different, the only thing that kept him from feeling as dead as she was, was the fact that she was still in his arms. She hadn't left him, so he gave in to what they both needed.

Their hands roamed around exploring the bodies which they knew so well, undoing buttons, pulling off clothing, feeling, touching, needing each other so badly. Fortunately the apartment was small, and the bedroom close, or they may not have made it that far. Warm flesh hit warm flesh in an intimate dance of healing. The two lovers hadn't touched each other as that in over two weeks, fearful of the very thing that put them in their agony.

Tonight as they hit that special mark, signified by two cries as their bodies were pushed to the limit, feeling rushed back into their minds and bodies like a volt of electricity. They could still feel, they were still alive, their nightmare finally over.

Panting and sweaty, but satisfied nonetheless, Matt spooned around Emily. They pressed their naked bodies together so tightly a length of thread wouldn't even press through, entangling their fingers together. Then they rested, finally able to sleep easily after so many nights being afraid.

* * *

Saturday morning brought the sun pouring through Emily's bedroom windows, gently waking the sleeping figures cuddled under the sheets. 

Emily woke up first to find her face in Matt's chest and her arms wrapped around his middle, she must have turned in the night. Failing to ignore the yellow light shining at them, Emily gave up the idea of catching a bit more sleep, and instead chose to watch her boyfriend as he slept.

The fear and tension of the last two weeks was gone from his face now, this morning his features seemed rested, relaxed. They had dodged a bullet, she knew that, but what amazed her even more was that they were still together. Even after the avoiding each other, her running away from him, and her freak-out where she put all the blame on him, they were still in each other's arms. He had been so wonderful during the whole experience, considering what he must have been going through, and he still held her now.

Emily knew she should probably say that she learned her lesson and would be more careful in the future, get tested more often. She had a feeling deep in her gut that she wouldn't be getting tested again. Not because she enjoyed Russian roulette with sex, but because she didn't plan on getting a new partner anytime in the near or distant future. Not that she was ready to admit that out loud to Matt, or anyone, but it did bring a smile to her face, which Matt caught as he woke up.

"Hey…" he said groggily, "what's got you smiling this early?"

"You."

"If I can get a smile like that out of you just for waking up, maybe I'll sleep more." He joked as he bent his head to kiss her.

"How about we don't get out of bed today?"

"You just pegged every guy's fantasy."

"What, spending all day in bed?" She asked half teasing.

"No, spending all day in bed with a beautiful woman." He said capturing her lips again.

"You know, women have the same fantasy."

"Really, with a beautiful woman?" He teased knowing exactly what she meant.

She gave him an annoyed look, and then initiated the next kiss. After another few minutes of kissing, Matt broke their lip lock, and looked at her seriously, brushing a stray hair from her face.

"There was something I've been wanting to tell you."

"Oh?" She looked mildly nervous now.

"I didn't have the balls to tell you before, and then this…whole thing happened, and it wouldn't have been fair to tell you then…" He trailed off, trying to find the courage to say what was on his mind.

"Matt, what's going on?" Now she was definitely nervous.

"I love you." He blurted it out after a minute of silence.

She looked at him stunned for, what felt like to him hours, before her eyes began to well slightly. Then she kissed him hard, with all the passion she had inside her, and wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head against his.

Matt wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly as he breathed in her scent. She wasn't ready to say it yet, but this was good enough for him.

They were alright. Actually, they were much more than alright.

End

* * *

_This is a short chapter I know, but it's the last one, not much more needed to be said. I suppose I should finally tell you all where this idea came from. Rosemarie DeWitt guest starred several years ago on Law and Order: SVU, and her character got HIV from her sleazy, child-rapist, ex-con boyfriend. Seeing that and then seeing her in Standoff, well and idea was born that just wouldn't get out of my head. _

_That being said, thank you to everybody that stuck through to the end, and all my reviewers, and Bite Beccy and justawriter for their reviews of the last chapter. And, a special thank you to TBrennanFan who reviewed every chapter. I hope I handled this with enough sensetivity, and on that note, remember to use condoms and get tested._

_Thanks again and take care!_


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